Hunter in Training (Pants)
by LumiOlivier
Summary: The boys all have their vices and their ways of unwinding after a hunt. What happens when one of Dean's gets him into more trouble than it's worth? (Crack!Fic)
1. Just a Drink

**A/N: Hi, friends! So, if you're new here, first of all, welcome, welcome, new friends. It's nice to have you. Make yourselves comfortable and if you need anything, don't hesitate. There are snacks over there. The drinks are in the fridge. And buckle your ass in because I decided to write something crack-y. For those of you coming back from A Family Forged in Fire and When the Fire Goes Out, I've already told you about this. How I was going to write something somewhat Destiel-ish. Well, I'm rambling here. I'm running on a little bit of sleep and a whole lot of caffeine, so let's see where this dumpster fire is going to take us. *throws floo powder* DIAGON ALLEY! *poof***

After a long week of cracking monster skulls, every hunter deserves a little rest and relaxation. The truth remained the same for a certain pair of brothers and the angel on their shoulder. Each one of them had their own away of unwinding after a hunt (this one in particular was a wendigo case in southern Vermont. The highway patrol thought they knew what they were doing. To no one's surprise, they didn't.). Sam had gone straight to bed once they returned to the bunker and indulged in his stash of melatonin tablets. Castiel had some business to tend to in Heaven. However, he wouldn't be gone long. He didn't like to stray too far from Sam and Dean.

With his brother attempting to catch up on sleep and his angel ascending to a higher place, that left Dean on his own. Not that he minded. He's been alone before. He could do it again. It wasn't his favorite thing, but if there was one thing Dean Winchester excelled at, it was persevering. By persevering, that meant getting back in his beautiful baby and getting a drink or two. Dean wasn't stupid. He knew when to cut himself off. He wouldn't put the Impala in that kind of danger on purpose. Not when he has control over it.

Since he and his brother found their cozy hole in the ground, Dean had become somewhat of an expert on the local bars of Lebanon. He knew which ones were ok and which ones to stay away from. Some of which he found out weren't the good ones the hard way. There was one nestled in the heart of downtown where the beer was always cold, the local bands were always good, and the bartenders were always quick. Dean pulled up a stool at the far end of the bar facing the door. He could never be too careful. The bartender knew the tired look on Dean's face all too well. And a glass of whiskey was placed in front of him.

Honestly, Dean would give anything to be laying in bed, but he knew how long sleep would elude him. Sitting in the bar sounded like a better use of his time. His little brother slept like a baby back home. His best friend was taking care of things upstairs. In the strangest way, life was good for the brothers Winchester for a change. Dean would be able to sleep soundly knowing there would be one less monstrous son of a bitch breathing in this world. And going by the statuesque blonde that had just walked into the bar, Dean's heroism was about to be rewarded. She wasn't Dean's usual type, but she'd do.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. This woman stood at the bar for only a few minutes and she had Dean completely mesmerized. Her bright blue eyes, her hourglass hips. He had to have her if only for tonight. In typical Dean fashion, he tried his best to play it cool. First, find out what she's drinking. She didn't look like the type to go for whiskey. Dean watched out of the corner of his eye as the bartender put a dark, bubbly liquid in front of her. Maybe he had her all wrong. That couldn't have been whiskey, could it? Did he misjudge her?

Dean's eyes followed the bartender to find him putting back a bottle of Captain Morgan. Ok. Not a whiskey girl, but she could get down with rum. Probably rum and Coke? Diet Coke. With a figure like hers, she wasn't drinking regular soda. The woman sat at the bar by herself. No wedding ring. Was she waiting on some friends to show up? Dean let her go for a little while longer, aimlessly scrolling through his phone, checking his news sources for the next possible case. Half an hour had gone by before he looked back up at the woman again. She still sat all alone. Dean flagged down the bartender, ready to make his move.

"Another whiskey?" he asked.

"No," Dean shook his head, "I'm good. Thanks. Maybe you could send a rum and diet Coke down to the woman over there."

"Can do," the bartender carried out Dean's order, making sure to tell her who sent it for her. Yet, Dean still played on his phone, keeping his distance.

"You know," her soft, gentle voice caught his ear, "It'd be rude of me to not say thank you."

"You're welcome," Dean shoved his phone back in his jacket pocket.

"How'd you know what I was drinking?" she took the empty barstool.

"Lucky guess," he shrugged, laying the charm on thick, "What's your name, pretty eyes?"

"Really?" the woman scoffed, "That's all you got?"

Dean had been a little caught off guard. Although, the chase was what made things fun after all, "What would you rather me call you? Your royal highness?"

"A little too dickish," she stopped him, "Back off a bit."

"Sorry," he had no idea what suddenly came over him. This one woman had Dean with his tail between his legs. What kind of spell was she casting over him? She didn't strike Dean as a witch. Then again, she didn't strike him as the type for rum either, "Hi. I'm Dean."

"There we go," she praised, "I swear. Mommy should've taught you some better manners."

"So?" Dean asked nicely this time, "What's your name, if I can't call you pretty eyes?"

The woman took his hand, "Freyja."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Freyja," Dean regained his footing, "Could I get you another drink?"

"I really shouldn't," Freyja turned him down, moving her hand to Dean's thigh. Out of reflex, he tensed up, "That doesn't mean we can't get a little better acquainted, does it?"

"No," he cleared his throat, "Not at all. I shouldn't have anymore either."

"Tell you what," she spoke seductively, leaning in closer, "Why don't you and I go back to your place and get to know each other?"

Dean began to panic. He couldn't take some random woman from the bar back to the bunker. He and Sam had an unspoken rule about that. Besides, nothing would kill the mood like Dean giving her the talk about the monsters under the bed. He had to think on his feet, "We can't…"

"Why not?" Freyja glared.

"My little brother's there," Dean threw Sam under the bus. Sorry, Sammy.

"And?" she cocked her head, "I'm not shy."

Was this chick serious? Was she a voyeur? Or was she looking for a little something extra? Dean loved his brother dearly and he would do anything for him. But getting him involved in his current conquest was not one of those things. She really was looking back to the bunker, but Dean couldn't let that happen.

"No," he laughed off the disgusting notion of a threesome involving his brother, cradling her cheek in his palm, "If we're going to get to know each other, I'm going to want your undivided attention."

"Well," Freyja smirked, "Aren't we a greedy little thing?"

"How about this?" Dean bargained, grabbing his jacket off the chair, "Why don't you and I get out of here and get a hotel room? That way, we don't have to go all the way back to your place."

"I'm not exactly from around here anyway," she told him, "Lead the way, baby."

And lead the way, he did. For the first night in a very long time, Dean had one of the best he's ever had. He'd have to keep Freyja's number on hand. An unattached drifter that would most likely not ask to cuddle. And she could take him around the world any time she wanted. After the fireworks had died down, Freyja laid with her head on Dean's bare chest, tracing around his anti-possession tattoo with her finger.

"So," she wondered, "Where do you want to get breakfast tomorrow morning?"

Dean froze, "What do you mean?"

"We do have this room all night," Freyja pointed out, "I'm not going to make you go back home. Not when we're so comfortable here."

"Look, sweetheart," he backed off, putting her down on the bed, "This was fun, but I have to go."

"Why?" she whined, "Why do you have to go?"

"Because," Dean was blunt. It's the only way she'd understand, "Chances are, you and me aren't going to happen. I knew that going into this and I thought you'd probably feel the same. Looks like I was wrong."

"You're damn right, you were wrong!" Freyja started getting angry, "I've been played a million times over and I thought you'd be different. Turns out you're just like every other whiny, selfish dick that comes into the bar. You will get what you deserve, Dean. I can promise you that. Just go."

With a shrug of his shoulders, Dean grabbed his pants off the chair, "Sorry."

He put his keys in the ignition and took off for the bunker. After the evening's festivities with Freyja, Dean was sufficiently drained and his bed would always welcome him with open arms. Before he could do that, though, he needed a little more peace of mind. Dean looked into the bedroom next to his to find his brother sleeping soundly with his Netflix account lighting up the room. One down. Looks like Cas wasn't back yet. He knew it wouldn't be long, but Dean wanted nothing more than to go to sleep.

The next morning, Dean opened his eyes only to shut them seconds after. Screw this. The boys didn't have anything to do. Everything was radio silent from monster sightings to demon signs to apocalyptic omens. There was even a gentle pitter patter of rain outside. Dean wouldn't hesitate. He went right back to sleep. Screw consciousness.

Meanwhile, Sam had woken up and left his brother to sleep off whatever hangover he knew he had. Luckily, there was a coffee pot in the kitchen calling his name. Sam knew he never had to worry about Dean when he went out to the bars. He knew Dean wouldn't get too stupid. But he also knew better. Waking Dean up would be more of a death sentence than anything else. As the day went on, there was still absolutely no sign of him.

"Hey, Cas," Sam wondered, "Have you seen Dean today?"

"I can't say that I have," Cas thought for a moment or two, "Is he still in bed?"

"I don't know," Sam shrugged, "Maybe."

The angel sat puzzled, "Do we wake him?"

"I think we might have to…" The two of them exchanged glances, nervous about their task at hand. They could do it. They were the two people in the world that Dean Winchester hated the least. When they cracked the door, they both heard Dean groan and grumble on the other side. However, they didn't see him anywhere.

"Dean?" Cas called out in the darkness of his bedroom.

"Cas?" Dean babbled deliriously, "The hell are you doing in here?"

"Where are you?" Sam looked around, afraid to turn on the lamp.

"Bed," Dean nuzzled his face in the pillows, ready to go back to sleep, "Why?"

"Sam," Cas gave him a nudge, pointing toward the small lump in Dean's bed.

"Hey, Dean," Sam worried, "You feel ok?"

"You don't have to yell, man," Dean whined, trying to roll over, but failing miserably, "I'm right here. What the hell…?"

"We're not yelling, Dean," Cas turned the light on, not entirely believing what he and Sam were seeing.

"Holy hell!" Dean freaked, "Why are you two giant?"

"We're not giant," Cas picked Dean up and held him in his arms.

"Dean," Sam stared in pure shock, "Do you feel ok?"

"Fine," Dean assured, "Why? Don't I look ok?"

"Dean," Cas walked with him to the bathroom mirror, "You look awfully young for your age."

That's when Dean realized he had a baby face. And body. And motor functions. When the hell did Dean become a baby?!

 **A/N: And so, we have a baby Dean. Now, this is going to go on for the entire week. Just a little miniseries for funsies. Now, cut me some slack because this was an idea I came up with at 2AM one morning when I couldn't sleep and it's been burning in the back of my brain ever since. So! I'll see you tomorrow! xx**


	2. Oh, Baby!

**A/N: Hi, friends! Now, I'm sorry this is out so late tonight. I had to take care of an actual baby that wasn't Dean today. He's six months old and a bundle of crank, so I'm going to go as hard as I can right now. Pray for me…**

 **Also, to Kathy from yesterday, I believe you requested more? Well, lookie here. More!**

"I'm…" Dean couldn't stop staring at what he saw in the mirror. That's not him. There's no way, "I'm…not a baby. That's not really me. This is some kind of an illusion. Gabriel's screwing with me or some other mischief driven son of a bitch with a death wish? Cas, what is this?"

"I don't know," Cas looked him over, holding his tiny body in his elbow.

"Dean," Sam sat down on the bed, "What did you do last night?"

"Last night," Dean thought back, "Just went to the bar."

"More specifically," Cas elaborated, "I could've told you that much."

"Alright," Dean thought long and hard about last night, "I went to the bar last night and got a drink and there was this really hot chick…"

Sam broke into hysterical laughter, doubling over, "I'm sorry. I'm having a really hard time taking you seriously."

"This is serious, Sam!" Dean snapped, "I didn't ask for this! Do you think I wanted to wake up like this?"

"We'll figure this out," Cas shot a harsh glare at Sam, "Go on. What do you remember about this woman?"

"She was hot," Dean swooned, "And she liked rum. She was all by herself, so I thought I'd give her a little company. And after we got our hotel room and…well…talked, it's fuzzy until I got back here. And I hardly remember even doing that much."

"So," Sam came down from his giggle fit, "We just need to find out what happened in the missing gap in your memories and we could find how to change you back. There's probably something in the library for that."

"Do you remember what her name was?" Cas put baby Dean down on his bed, a shooting pain running through his arm.

"Why'd you put me down?" Dean scowled.

"My arm was getting tired."

"Untire your arm!" he demanded.

"A name, Dean," Sam refocused him, "What was the woman from the bar's name?"

"I don't remember," Dean tried to reach back, but grasped at air, "I know she told me to call her Mommy, though…"

"Very nice," Sam suppressed a gag, "Real classy."

"What?" Dean jumped on the defensive, "Trust me, Sammy. If you would've seen her, you would've called her anything she'd ask you, too. She was a ten swimming in a sea of twos. My God…I wish I remembered her name."

"Me, too," Cas pouted, ready to find this woman. Going off Dean's description, she sounded like a real winner.

Then, Sam was struck with a sudden realization, "Um…Dean?"

"What?" Dean struggled to lift his head.

"How, uh…" Sam worried, "How much control do you have over…things…?"

"Why?" Dean didn't follow him.

"Think about it," he elaborated, "You're a baby, Dean. If you couldn't even roll over, what else do you think you can't do?"

"Oh, God." Hey! Dean figured it out! His face lost all its coloring.

"Yeah…" Sam cringed, sharing his brother's sentiment.

"Hey!" Dean fussed, squirming around in Cas' arms, "I don't want this any more than you do!"

Sam let out a heavy sigh, "I think I'll go on a supply run. Cas, can you stay here with Dean?"

"Yes," Cas nodded, feeling a warm sensation in his heart…and one on his leg.

The color returned to Dean's face…Almost too much, "Did I just…?"

"Sam," Cas stared blankly at the wall, "If you could please hurry, I'd really appreciate it."

"On it," Sam didn't waste another second. He headed out for baby supplies, leaving his new little brother behind.

"Sorry, Cas," Dean apologized, "I, uh…I don't…"

"I know, Dean," Cas cradled him against his chest, bouncing him on his knee, "I know you didn't mean to. You are, after all, just a baby right now."

"Thank you," he nuzzled his face in the angel's shoulder, ready to go back to sleep. But then, a little rumble turned Dean's stomach, "I'm starving, man. Wait! There's a big ass burrito in the fridge!"

"Can you even eat something like that?" Cas wondered, "You don't have any teeth."

In that moment, Dean Winchester died a little inside. All he wanted was his burrito that was now the size of his new body, "This sucks. I hate this, Cas. I can't eat my burrito. I can't drive my car. I can't hold my gun. I can't fight. I can't drink. I can't even go to the bathroom outside of my own pants! Now, I pissed myself and I'm so grateful that we don't get to remember the first couple years of our lives. This is not a feeling I want to remember. I hate this with a burning passion."

"I'm sorry," he held him a little closer. While Dean continued to go off on his tangent, Castiel couldn't help but be completely in awe of him. He's never seen Dean look so pure and innocent before. Except for maybe once. But at the time, he was just that. He _was_ pure and innocent. He may have been seven, eight months old.

This time around felt different. Because Cas knew Dean as an adult. Even when he saw him as a baby, they never officially met. But now, this was a different kind of innocence. Behind Dean's newfound innocent appearance was still Dean's screwed up head. His twisted sense of humor. His flaws. His perfections. This was still his Dean deep down.

And…Well…Cas did think baby Dean was absolutely adorable. His freckles across the bridge of his nose stood out more than usual. His grassy green eyes sparkled a little more. And all Cas wanted to do was hug him and cuddle him. This may not be so bad, but he knew how much it was killing Dean inside. They'd find a way to get him back.

"Is there anything you need right now?" Cas offered, bouncing him a little more.

"Well," Dean thought, "Sam's bringing food, so I have that to look forward to. I could stand some clean pants. That'd be pretty great. But you know what would be the absolute best right now?"

"What's that, Dean?"

"Puberty."

Sam needed to hurry up. Cas wasn't sure how much longer he could deal with a fussy baby on his own.

 **A/N: Well, friends, I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but it has been a long day and I'm tired as balls. But! Dean's a little cranky. He doesn't like his current state. And honestly, I can't blame him. Will things get better? Will Dean ever go back to being an adult? Is Cas going to take a shine to baby Dean? Did Sam decide to go out for a pack of smokes and lottery scratchers and a gallon of milk and a six pack? That Dean can't drink? We won't know. Not until tomorrow! So, my lovelies, I'll see you tomorrow! xx**


	3. Daddy's Little Slugger

Sam came back a little while later with a few bags in hand and a box under his arm. The woman behind the counter commended him for being such a good father. Going by the tired and dead look in his eye, she figured he could stand to hear some reassurance. But before Sam could go back in the bunker, he really could stand some advice more than the reassurance.

"Hey, Sam," the only mother he had on speed dial chimed on the other end, "Always good to hear from you, but you get why I'm worried, right?"

"Totally understandable," Sam agreed, "Look, Jody, I'm about to ask you something that's going to sound absolutely crazy."

"My favorite," Jody chuckled nervously, "I'd be worried if you were asking me something sane and logical. What's up?"

He put the diaper box on the hood of the Impala, "How do you take care of a baby?"

The stunned silence on the other end was unsettling to say the least, "Sam...How in the hell did you and your brother stumble on a baby? Do I even want to know?"

"See, that's the thing," Sam winced, bracing himself for whatever may come next, "Dean and I didn't find the baby. I'm thinking Dean got a little too drunk and pissed off a witch. Because Dean is the baby."

"Dean's a baby?" Jody gasped, bringing herself back down to Earth in the same breath. It's Sam and Dean. She really shouldn't be shocked anymore.

"Yeah..."

"So," she went into full hunter mode, "We're thinking witches?"

"That's just my guess," Sam confirmed, "So, how do I take care of him?"

"Well," Jody began, "What do you got for him so far?"

"The standard stuff," he looked into the bags, "I got diapers, wipes, formula, a jug of water, bottles, a car seat, a couple of onesies, and a bib."

"Only one?"

"Yeah."

Jody let out a heavy, exasperated sigh on the other end, "Do you want me come down?"

"I think between Cas and me, we got it," Sam hoped.

"Feed him four ounces of formula every couple hours," she advised, "For every two ounces of water you use, put in one scoop of formula. Burp him every ounce or so. Do you have any baby food or cereal?"

"I got a jar of applesauce."

"Alright," Jody let him have that one, "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call, ok? Or to send pictures."

"I will," Sam assured, "Thanks, Jody."

"No problem," she chimed, "Good luck."

Sam put his phone back in his pocket, feeling a little more confident in his child rearing abilities, and started heading inside. Hopefully, Dean wasn't too stressed and Cas didn't want to leave him yet. Maybe Cas got him down for a nap. With cautious and quiet steps, Sam unloaded everything onto the table in the main room. Cas came out with Dean on his hip and Dean's face lit up.

"Thank God," he squealed, "Food. Also, did you notice how cold the air conditioning is in this place?"

"The air's not on, Dean," Sam pointed out, "You don't have any clothes on."

"I also got a bitch of a diaper rash starting to develop!"

"I got some of those, too," he cut the box open.

"Awesome," Dean approved, "Which one of you is changing me?"

Sam and Cas exchanged nervous glances, having the internal not it fight. He's your brother. He's your on again, off again love interest. You've known him longer. You won't stop making stern, yet googly eyes at him. Before it turned into a verbal fight, Cas finally caved, "I'll do it."

"About damn time," Dean was about to get real fussy real quick, "I'm frozen and I'm not too keen on sitting in my own pee."

Cas got a clean diaper from the box and the container of wipes and laid Dean down on the table, "Sam, do you know how to do this?"

"I've never changed a baby," Sam shrugged, "How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"You two better figure it out!" Dean squealed, growing more and more pissed off as time passed, "Really? This is where you're going to lay me?"

"We're trying to make the best of a bad situation, Dean," Sam argued, "Come on. We're not stupid. We can figure this out."

Cas took off the dripping, makeshift diaper off Dean and laid the fresh one down on underneath him. Even though Dean had aged down a few decades, Dean was still Dean, "Eyes up here, handsome."

"Dean," Cas glared, "I'm trying to do this as quick as humanly possible."

He pulled the back tabs over the front and made Dean squirm, "Ow! What the hell, man? That's too tight."

"Sorry," Cas redid the front tabs and grabbed one of the onesies out of the bag.

"Hold on," Dean grabbed his new clothes and gave them a look, "Really, Sam? Daddy's little slugger?"

"It's all they had," Sam told him, "Everything else would've been too big."

"I need to get back to normal," Dean growled, "And I need to get back to normal now. But food first. You did get me food, right, Sam?"

"Yeah," Sam got a bottle out and gave it a quick rinse in the kitchen, "Jody said to do two ounces of water to a scoop of formula powder and burp every ounce or so."

"Did you get burp cloths?" Cas dug around in the bag.

"There's some in there," Sam nodded, "I think they're in with the bib. We're going to get some more. According to Jody, I'm grossly undersupplied."

"We can get some on the way," Dean brushed him off, "We need to get back to the bar I was at last night. Maybe the bartender will remember what her name was."

"Do you want a bottle first?" Cas suggested, "You did say you were hungry."

"And you think milk is going to make me not hungry?" Dean scoffed, "If you can fit a bacon cheeseburger in there somehow, we'll talk."

"This will make you not hungry," Sam promised, "You'll get more in a couple hours."

"Fan-freakin'-tastic," Dean missed real food. He hadn't had any since yesterday, but he missed real food so much, "Why isn't that in my mouth then? I'm starving."

"Alright," Cas mixed his bottle and stuck it in his mouth, "There. Is that better?"

Dean nodded, sucking down the god-awful tasting formula as fast as he could. Sure, it was disgusting, but it beats going hungry. He drank down his first ounce in almost no time flat. Cas started to pull the bottle out of Dean's mouth, "Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"You finished the first ounce," Cas pointed out, "Sam, could you get me a burp cloth?"

"Sure," Sam pulled one out of the bag. A light blue one.

"So?" Dean growled, "Put that damn bottle back in my mouth or so help me, Cas, once I'm back to normal, I will personally kick your ass."

"No, you won't," Cas started patting his back.

"Cas," the cranky bundle of joy was not having it, "Give me back the bottle."

"No, Dean."

"Cas..."

"No."

"Ca...Braaaaappp..."

"There," Cas put the bottle back, "See?"

"You're kind of a natural at this, Cas," Sam praised.

"Thank you," Cas kept feeding Dean and Dean kept getting pissed when Cas took the bottle out. And once it emptied out, the three of them headed out.

When they got to the Impala, Sam got in the driver's seat. Cas opened up the back seat and in the middle was a car seat already strapped in. Dean's face went completely blank, "I think I'm going to be sick."

"What do you mean?" Cas wondered, putting him in the car.

"This is unholy." Out of nowhere, a white liquid spewed out of Dean's mouth. Fortunately, Cas pulled a burp cloth out of the pocket of his trench coat.

"We'll find out soon enough," Cas got in the backseat with Dean, "Go, Sam."

Sam wasn't going to argue with an angel. Especially that one in particular. And off they went to whatever bar Dean decided to stumble into last night. Dean directed his brother to the dilapidated bar downtown from his uncomfortable car seat that he couldn't stop complaining about the whole way there. He felt so bad for the babies that had to ride in these contraptions. Fortunately, he'd still get to ride in style. Once they unstrapped Dean from the car, he got strapped to Sam's chest.

"This is humiliating," Dean grumbled.

"Hey," Sam bounced him a little, "You can't talk, remember? People aren't going to be too receptive of a talking baby. So, babbles, gurgles? Fine. Speaking full sentences? Not fine."

"Son of a bitch," he pouted, hating his life. Between being branded Daddy's little slugger and the fact that he's playing Yoda to Sam's Luke in the weirdest way, things couldn't get any worse. Except for maybe the diaper situation. But that's beside the point.

Sam and Cas walked into the bar and found the bartender wiping down the counters. Things were a lot calmer at four in the afternoon than what they were at eleven last night. Dean eyed up all the pretty, well-lit bottles lining the back bar and thought to himself how badly he wanted one of everything right now. Maybe if he's lucky, he'll start teething and score a little whiskey on his gums.

"What can I…" the bartender stopped and stared at Sam's new chest accessory, "Wow. No judgment, man, but that's some A+ parenting on your part."

"Sorry, sir," Sam took out his FBI badge, "But it's take your child to work day at the bureau."

"Oh," the bartender straightened up, "I'm sorry. I didn't know the FBI would be through here, Agent…"

"Plant," Sam introduced himself, "This is my partner, Agent Bonham."

"Well," he did a couple blinks, "We welcome all kinds of couples in here."

Dean looked up at Sam with the most evil glance. Sam had to do damage control, "Anyway. There was a man in here last night. Tall, blonde, green eyes, leather jacket."

"Dean!" the bartender squeaked, "Yeah. I know him. What about him?"

"We're looking for the woman he left with last night," Sam went on, "You wouldn't happen to know her name or maybe an address, would you?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "I don't know her address, but she said her name was Freyja. Pretty little thing. Damn…I wouldn't have minded having her number. Lucky Dean. He probably left with her around two."

"Do you know her last name?" Cas wondered.

"Sorry," the bartender shook his head, "But she's new in town. I only saw her once and that was when she came in last night. I'd remember something like that. She was like a goddess."

"Is there any other information you can give us?"

"Nope," he shrugged, "That's all I got."

"Well," Sam took a card out of his pocket, "Give us a call if you see or hear from her."

"Can do!"

A name. At least they had a name. Who are you, Freyja?

 **A/N: Can I say how adorable baby Dean is? Poor thing just needs to be snuggled. I'd like to volunteer for that job. He deserves loVE AND AFFECTION, OK?! I'm sorry. I get a little heated sometimes. Will you ever forgive me? Forgive me tomorrow when I post again. I'll see you tomorrow (afternoon, I hope. I'm shoot for it. But I also have three babes to take care of between the ages of six months and ten years.)! xx**


	4. Dean Wuvs Hugs

**A/N: I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I hammered this out in a few hours. I had to catch a second and third wind before I got back to working on this. My brain is mush. I'm exhausted. Enjoy the fruits of my labor.**

The boys got back to the bunker and took a seat at the table in the main room. Cas had already started shaking up a bottle for Dean. At least they had a name. Freyja. The name hardly rang any bells for Dean, but it did sound a little familiar. Sam started his research with a quick Google search of Freyja in Lebanon. There had to be something. Real estate records, a driver's license, a Facebook page. Anything. Freyja was a ghost. Whoever she was, she didn't want to be found. Did Dean hurt her that bad?

After a few hours of research and half a pizza later, they still had nothing. Sam and Dean had only seen this kind of extensive track covering once before. And Dean was a hundred percent sure that he didn't sleep with Bela last night. She was busy getting worked over in Hell. Cas put down Dean's empty bottle and sat him upright, waiting for him to burp.

Sam's forehead met with the tabletop in pure exhaustion, "If I keep looking at this screen any longer, I swear I'll lose it."

"I'm sorry that this is difficult for you, Sammy," Dean may be a baby, but he still had his patented snark, "I could only imagine."

"It's exhausting, Dean!" Sam jumped on the defensive, "I've been bending over backwards since Cas and I found you. You don't think I'm not trying to find anything on how to turn you back or about this Freyja chick? She's damn near impossible to find!"

"Sam," Cas settled him, "I think we're all a little on edge."

"But he's being..." Sam stopped himself before he said something he'd later regret.

"What?" Dean glared, "What am I being, Sam? I'm sure we're all dying to hear it. So, say it."

"You're acting like a baby, Dean!"

"Because I am a baby!"

"You're a full-grown adult!"

"If we could all be civil please," Cas stepped in, breaking those two up. It wasn't the first time he's had to break up a legendary Winchester hissy fight. And it probably won't be the last.

Sam was the first one to bow out of the fight gracefully, "Sorry."

"Thank you," Cas stood up with the bundle of salt in his arms, "I'm going to go put Dean to bed."

"Wait, what?" Dean perked up, "No, we're not putting Dean to bed. Dean's not sleeping until he's out of Huggies."

"Dean's going to bed now," Cas put his foot down, "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"What's the hard way?"

"Is that really something you want to find out?" He was starting to like this newfound parental role baby Dean has brought out in him.

"Something tells me no," Dean figured.

"Alright then," Cas took the little victory, "Can I put you to bed now?"

"But I'm not tired," he protested, "Why would you have to put me to bed?"

"Because," Cas grabbed the freshly shaken bottle on his way through, "You need to get some sleep."

"I'll sleep later."

"If you say so," Cas stuck the bottle in Dean's mouth.

He rested his head on his angel's shoulder, his body starting to relax, "You know, Cas, you really didn't have to do this."

"I don't mind," he rocked Dean in his arms a little more, "As long as you go to sleep some time tonight, I'll be right here."

Dean looked up at Cas with a little sparkle in his eye, "You really do watch over me, don't you?"

"I am an angel, Dean," Cas gave him a little sheepish grin, "It is my original purpose."

"Keep it up, buddy," Dean patted his chest, sucking down his bottle, "Still not tired, though."

"Just give it a minute..."

Not much longer...Dean's eyes grew heavier, falling under the spell of the bottle in his mouth. Castiel knew Dean better than Dean gave him credit for. If anything was going to get him to sleep, it was a bottle in his mouth. Regardless of what age he may be. As long as Dean was drinking something, it would be his instant sleeping pill. Out of reflex, Cas kissed his forehead and put Dean down on the bed, whispering well wishes for sleep in his ear. Even though he knew Dean would have to go back to being his usual self, Cas wasn't complaining about the more compact version. So small and dependent on him. Cas could get used to this for a while.

In fact, he couldn't help himself. Cas scooped Dean back up in his arms and cradled him against his chest. He shut his eyes for a moment or two, taking in the moment. Only to fall asleep shortly after. Granted, angels didn't have to sleep, but taking care of Dean and working this case had taken quite a bit out of him. Cas had always heard the rule that when the baby sleeps, the parent sleeps. This was nice.

The next morning, Dean woke up in the arms of his favorite angel. The only angel whose head he didn't want on a spike in the front yard. Although, he looked even more angelic while he was sleeping. Dean almost fell back asleep until he saw those big, blue eyes open up. That woke him up even more. It brought a smile to his face.

"Well," Cas smiled back, "Good morning, Dean. Did you sleep well?"

"Strangely, yes," Dean grumbled, still a bit out of it while Cas put him down on the bed, "How long have you been here?"

"I'm not sure," he thought back, getting a clean diaper and the wipes from the dresser, "Maybe since last night."

So, that's why he slept so well last night. Dean hadn't had a good night's sleep since he was in his early twenties. And maybe not even then. Maybe Cas gave him some sort of angelic juice in his bottle last night? Or used his power to put him to sleep? But Dean couldn't even think about that anymore. Not when Cas unsnapped the bottom of his footie pajamas and ripped the tabs of his diaper.

"You've gotten pretty good at that, Cas," Dean praised, keeping still for him.

"Thank you," Cas had already tossed the gross diaper and pulled the tabs on the new one across the front.

"Dammit!" Dean growled, "Too tight."

"Sorry," Cas was trying his best. And no one could fault him for that. He was still relatively new to this whole parenting thing. Especially when it's Dean. Quickly, he fixed the tabs and got him redressed, "You want another bottle?"

"No, thank you," Dean gagged, "I don't think I could handle another one of those. They taste like ass."

"I know," Cas picked him back up and bounced him a bit, "I don't envy you. Just the smell alone is enough for me."

"Tell me Sam got some kind of baby food yesterday," Dean crossed his fingers. As much as he could anyway.

"There's a box of rice cereal in the kitchen," Cas remembered, "I'm sure that'll taste better than this."

"Awesome," Dean approved, laying in Cas' shoulder perfectly content with the world.

The two of them walked down to the kitchen for Dean's breakfast that was so delicately mixed in an empty KFC gravy container and brought it into the main room of the bunker. Sam had been sitting in there all night, looking for any sort of information he could find on whoever this Freyja chick might have been.

"I GOT IT!" Sam squeaked excitedly, "I think I might have this figured out."

"Do tell," Dean insisted, "I'm all ears."

"You know how we think you pissed off a witch?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't piss off a witch," Sam spun his laptop around, showing an article on Norse mythology, "You pissed off a Norse god."

"Oops," Dean winced, taking another bite of cereal.

"Freyja is a Norse goddess of love, war, sex, death, and fertility," he read, "She's known to have a wicked sense of humor, much like Loki's."

"Where's Gabriel when we need him?"

"What makes you so sure that this is that Freyja?" Cas wondered.

"Other than Dean's current condition," Sam pointed out, "She's also a mother to three daughters and always wanted to bear a son, but never did. So, I'm guessing she preys on desperate men to feed off their love and affection."

"All that aside," Dean brushed off the unfortunate wound to his pride, "How do we ice the bitch?"

"A spear of white oak," Sam went on, "Bathed in holy fire. Theoretically, once we kill Freyja, that should turn you back."

For whatever reason, Sam's words hit Dean in the strangest way. He knew that this was going to come to an end. He just didn't realize it'd be so soon. Dean would never admit this outside of his own head, but in all honesty, he didn't want to go back. Everything is so much simpler. The night he met Freyja, Dean just wanted to unwind. The hunter's life took so much out of him and he spent all his time watching out for his brother and keeping the world from exploding. It was nice to be taken care of for a change. Once Freyja was dead, so was the simplicity that life had given him.

"We shouldn't waste any time then," Cas got up, ready to get the white oak spear.

"Wait," Dean stopped him, "Where are you going?"

"Don't worry," Cas handed Dean off to Sam, "I'll be right back."

Poof...There he goes.

"This is weird, right?" Sam looked down at his brother.

Dean looked him dead in the eyes, "Put me down. Lay me on the table, the floor, I don't care. Put me down."

"Alright," Sam put Dean down on the floor on the blanket he was swaddled in, "You good?"

"Yeah," Dean made himself comfortable, "I remember the days when I used to hold you like that."

"Really?"

"Definitely," he nodded, "Hell, if I didn't know any better, I'd think I took better care of you than Dad did. I know I took care of you more than he did."

"Really?" Sam shut his laptop, listening intently to what his brother had to say. He didn't remember much from the early days of his life, but Dean remembered them like yesterday. Every diaper changed. Every bottle made. Every late night he spent taking care of his brother through thrush, teething, mysterious illnesses. Sam didn't remember that, but Dean could never forget it.

"Yeah..." Before he could get too terribly sad, something caught Dean's eye. Something sticking out of the bookshelf. Something he hid there on purpose. Only one word stuck out like a sore thumb: Busty, "Hello...Yes, please."

Without hesitation, Dean pushed himself up onto his knees and waddled to his secret copy of Busty Asian Beauties. Nothing could keep him from the lovely ladies that waited between those covers just for him. Maids, nurses, firefighters, college girls, cops, and everything in between. He had a beautiful angel to visit.

"Dean," Sam gasped, beaming like a proud parent, "Did you just crawl?"

"Shut up, Sam," Dean looked over the centerfold, "Konichiwa, gorgeous..."

"You crawled!" he reiterated, scooping his brother up.

"Dammit, Sam!" Dean dropped his magazine...Poor baby, "Now, I'm hungry. Feed me."

"I got it," Cas popped back up in the bunker with a giant, white oak spear, "Another bottle, Dean? Or do you want something else?"

"The cereal was tolerable," Dean told him, "But barely."

"There's a jar of applesauce in the fridge," Sam chirped.

"That'll work."

"Ok," Cas took Dean from Sam and took him into the kitchen. Well...It looks like this was it. All good things must come to an end...

 **A/N: I'm so proud of him! Dean crawled! And only Dean would start crawling just to get to his hidden copy of Busty Asian Beauties. Also, I need to point out how downright adorable Cas is with baby Dean. It hits me in a warm and fuzzy place. Speaking warm and fuzzy, I have a blanket on my bed that I'd like to wrap up with and a bed to sleep in. See you tomorrow for the thrilling conclusion of this delightful little crack series! xx**


	5. Mama Knows Best

**A/N: Hi, friends! Well. Here we are. We've come a long way since Monday. We got a squishy baby Dean. An overly exhausted mother Cas. The weird, concerned uncle Sam. And for the first time all week, I don't have a baby on my hip to take care of, so this should be out relatively early today! Compared to it being late at night like it's been all week. So, then! Are we ready? I'm ready. Let's do this!**

On the outskirts of Lebanon, there wasn't much. Nothing but grassy fields, the bunker tucked away, and an old church that had seen more than its fair share of tragedy. Fires, floods, tornadoes. After its last calamity, the reverend and his parish picked up and moved to greener pastures. There was too much evil in that church. Over the years, it only continued to fall apart and become overran with weeds and teenagers that went there to smoke their pot. Yet, by some sense of divine intervention, the building still stood. No one knew how or why, but it still stood.

Sam pulled the Impala around the front. If they were looking for a god, where better to look? Sam and Cas got out with Sam wielding the spear of white oak. Then, Cas grabbed Dean out of his car seat, ready to strap him to the harness around his shoulders. But then, Cas stopped and put Dean back in his car seat.

"Hey," Dean piped up as the straps wrapped back around him, "What the hell, Cas? What are you doing?"

"Things could get very ugly in here," Cas buckled him back in, "I'm not putting you in harm's way like that."

"I have every right to be in the thick of it, too!" Dean argued, "I want to know why this bitch made me this way and I want to watch her get ran through with that spear."

"We're also going up against a god," Cas pointed out, "There's no telling what she'll do."

"Come on, Cas," Dean glanced over his shoulder, "Back me up here, Sam. Tell him I'll be fine."

"I have to go with Cas on this one," Sam sold his brother out, "You just started crawling, Dean. I don't think you'd be much good in a fight. Especially one of this magnitude."

"But...!"

"Dammit, Dean!" Cas snapped, startling all involved, "I said no! I don't want you getting hurt! Not when I can protect you! You're staying here!"

Dean was completely stunned. He had nothing. No witty retorts. No snark. Nothing. His head went completely blank. The extremely protective spark in Cas' eye sent chills down Dean's spine. He wasn't going to argue anymore. Any strength Cas had left had to go to this fight. He would be fighting for two this time around.

"Alright," Dean threw in the towel, "Go kick her ass."

"With pleasure," Cas gave Dean a little smile and shut the car door, locking the baby inside.

"Freyja!" Sam yelled out, "Come out and play!"

"Well, well," a woman walked out of the church with a certain sway in her hips, "They weren't joking when they said if I get one Winchester, I get both of them. It's like a double prize. And their cherub on top of it?"

"I'm an angel," Cas corrected her, not taking the intended jab at his pride, "Not a cherub."

"I could arrange that, you know," she smirked.

"You're Freyja, aren't you?" Sam brought her back.

"I see my reputation has gotten around," Freyja introduced herself, "Yes. I am Freyja. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"I wish I could say the same."

"Aww," she pouted, "So mean. I didn't do anything to you, Sam. All of my quarrels were with your brother. Speaking of, where is he? Shouldn't he be spearheading this charge?"

"He can't," Sam held his glare, "He's a little incapacitated."

"I shouldn't be surprised," Freyja shrugged it off, "I always saw Dean as more of a submissive type."

"That's none of your business," Cas was ready to run her through. It's what Dean wanted to see anyway. If he had his way, he'd be the one to finish her.

"Where is Dean, though?" she asked, "Probably somewhere filling his Pampers. Did you call him a sitter?"

"Enough with the talk," Sam growled, "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Do you realize I could kill you right now?" he snapped, "I could you right now and have absolutely no remorse."

"Sam…" Cas settled him, "I understand where you're coming from, but you know what we have to do."

"Are we done with the foreplay yet, gentlemen?" Freyja rolled her eyes, "I got other things to do today. Better things. I think I have a nail appointment in a couple hours, so if we could keep this short and sweet, that'd be great."

"Easy." Without another thought, Sam lunged the spear toward the god in front of him. Of which was shortly tossed aside by said god. You tried, Sam. You tried.

"Really?" she scoffed, "I thought you said it'd be easy."

Freyja casted both Sam and Cas aside. Were these really the legendary Winchesters she had heard so much about? And the great, powerful angel Castiel? She's never been so disappointed that they didn't live up to the hype. Bless their hearts, though. They tried. Freyja knew they didn't leave Dean at home with a sitter. When she opened the back door, a pacifier went flying at her.

"Long time, no see," Dean growled, "You new in town?"

"Yeah," Freyja undid his seatbelts and pulled him out of his car seat, "I like to drift through towns across the country just to get my rocks off. You can't fault me for that. Look at you. You're still a cutie, Dean."

"Why am I like this?"

"Ooh…" she sat him on her hip, "Probably not the first time you've asked that."

"Answer me!"

"So fussy," Freyja teased him, "Did someone miss his afternoon nap?"

"Answer me, bitch!" Dean repeated.

"I think you got what you deserved," she rocked him a bit, "And I bet you're so much simpler to manage now. Since you're so small and your brother and your angel are down right now, what's stopping me from just…taking you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah," Freyja cradled him against her chest, "Imagine. I could keep you. I've never had a son before. How would you feel about having a few sisters?"

"I got a brother," Dean pointed out, "I'll pass."

"Aww…" she kissed his forehead, "You're not going to do anything, sweetheart. You can't."

"Back off," a deep, angry voice rumbled behind her.

"You must have been the one taking care of this little cutie," Freyja held Dean a little closer, "Castiel, the mama angel. I have to admit, that's adorable."

"Give him back," Cas demanded, "Things will not end well, Freyja."

"You know what?" Freyja thought, "I've been so indecisive about it, but now, I think I have my decision. I am keeping you, Dean. I could raise you on my own. What do you say, Dean? Care to see the nine realms with me?"

"No way in Hell, lady," Dean shot her down.

"I mean," she shook Cas off, "It's not like you've never called me Mommy before anyway."

"He said no," Cas saw the opening to get the spear while Sam was still pretty knocked out. Freyja couldn't have Dean. And she wouldn't have Dean. While Cas was still breathing, she would not take Dean away from him.

"Why not?" Freyja bounced Dean around a little more, "Who's Mommy's little demigod, huh?"

"I SAID NO!" Cas ran her through with the spear, making her drop to her knees. Before Dean had the chance to hit the ground, Cas got under him, catching him in his shoulder. As her body fell limp to the ground, branch sticking straight out of her chest, Cas checked over the baby in his arms, "Dean, are you ok?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "I'm fine. Where's Sam?"

"He's not doing too well," Cas told him, "He's unconscious, but he'll be fine."

"Sam…" Dean tried to call out, his voice weak, "Sam!"

"Dean?" Sam started to come to, "Dean, are you alright?"

"We're good," he assured, "And what about Freyja? Do we have to worry about her anymore?"

"I don't think so," Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, holding him tighter.

"If that's the case," Sam walked over to them, helping Cas back to his feet, "Why is Dean still a baby?"

"I don't know," Dean shrugged, "But I'd kill a man for a beer right now."

"You still can't have alcohol," Cas pointed out.

"Dammit."

"I don't know," Sam rubbed his eyes, "But I think I'll have that beer for you, Dean. Can we go home?"

"Hell yeah," Dean insisted, "I want a bottle and a bed."

"I'm sure you'll be fine in the morning," Cas assured, bringing Dean back to the car, "If not, we'll figure something out."

"Awesome."

Dean had a little time left to be the baby. A stay of execution, as he liked to think of it. When they got back to the bunker, Cas had made a bottle for him (even though it was disgusting. A necessary evil.) and brought Dean into the bedroom. Not a word was said between them. But then again, nothing ever needed to be said. They could have a full conversation without even saying a word. Cas rocked dean back and forth until the power of the bottle brought him under.

This was it, he thought. This would be the last time he ever gets to hold Dean like this. His little head in the crook of his elbow. His gentle, innocent face taking on an entirely different mood in his sleep. His little nose twitching once in a while. This was it. And for the next eight hours, Castiel would make the most of it.

The next morning, Dean woke up with his head on Cas' chest and Cas' arms still around him. He looked down at his feet, amazed that he could lift his head a bit easier than the other day. All of his bits and pieces were back to being adult sized again. However, the warmth around him was too nice to pass up. Although he couldn't be more grateful that he was back to normal, this was pretty nice, too. Dean didn't have the heart to wake Cas up, so instead, he stayed completely still and shut his eyes again. Just a few more minutes wouldn't kill him.

 **A/N: And so, here we have it, friends. Dean's back to being a grown up. Freyja's dead. Everything turned out pretty ok. And it still went up brutally late because I can't get in the swing of things sometimes. Oh well. It's still up, isn't it? But all that aside, it's been really nice to have you around for the week. For those of you that are going to be back next week for my regularly scheduled programming, I'll be back next week for regularly scheduled programming. I don't know what I'm going to be doing with my Thursdays quite yet, but I'm sure I'll figure something out. Honestly, I'm thinking about writing for Fairy Tail again, but that's just me. You may not even know what I'm talking about, but that's ok. We all come from different fandoms and the fact that we can come together because of mutual fandoms is a beautiful thing. So from the bottom of my heart, to everyone that decided to drop this a read (especially Kathy. You the real MVP and I love you.) and some review, thank you. If you're reading this in the future, you're more than welcome to come say hi. I'm not going anywhere. So, until the next time we meet. I'll see you later. xx**


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